


The Art of Loosening Tongues, The Science of Being Honest

by stellarparallax



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, But they're both interested in other people, Drinking, Drunken Confessions, Drunken Kissing, Drunkenness, Implied Sexual Content, Light Angst, M/M, Makeout buddies Claude and Sylvain, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, They're all college graduates but this isn't like super pivotal to the plot or anything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:00:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25767091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stellarparallax/pseuds/stellarparallax
Summary: As soon as he says it, he regrets it. Claude’s eyes widen. He says nothing. Sylvain takes it as a rejection and looks away in mild embarrassment. He almost takes it back and laughs it off when Claude says, “Sure!”Sylvain blinks back his surprise. “Wait, what?”“Seriously. I’m game if you are.”--In which Sylvain and Claude kiss each other a lot because they're too nervous to do it with the men they actually like.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier, Side Dimiclaude, Side Dorogrid
Comments: 10
Kudos: 102





	The Art of Loosening Tongues, The Science of Being Honest

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lazulila](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazulila/gifts).



> Written for [Alex](https://twitter.com/_lazulila) and [Yasu](https://twitter.com/yasu_miiii)!!

_ Can’t wait to see you tonight, babe ;) _

Sylvain reads the text and snorts.

Claude probably is already parking his car out front, so he doesn’t even bother to respond. Sylvain shoves his phone into his back pocket and walks over to his vanity. He tilts his chin from side to side, checking that every lock of hair is perfectly in place. When he is satisfied, he steps out of his bedroom.

Despite taking his time, he realises quickly that his housemates aren’t ready to leave yet. The only ones who look ready are Ashe and Ingrid, who are on the couch discussing their new favourite book. He looks around the room and sees Annette still pinning Mercedes’s curls in place.

He presses his lips (that are shiny with lip gloss, thank you very much) together. The person that he was looking forward to seeing the most was missing. He  _ could _ ask anyone in the room about it, but he didn’t want to be obvious about it. 

Instead, he asks, “So, uhm, Claude and Thea here yet?”

“Mhmm!” Ashe confirms. “Claude is using the bathroom and Dorothea is in Felix’s room.”

Sylvain laughs breathily. “What… what’s she doing in there?”

“I’m not sure.” Ashe frowns. “When they arrived, she made a beeline to his bedroom without even saying hi to any of us. Even Ingrid got ignored!”

He knits his brows, unsure of what to make of that information. It wasn’t like Dorothea to brush past her girlfriend. 

Suddenly, a hand comes down on his ass and he nearly yelps in response. Before he can whip around to see who the offending party is, a kiss is pressed firmly into his cheek.

“Hey,” Claude says. Sylvain can just hear the smirk in his voice.

He returns the favour with a backhanded smack to the arm.

“Ow! I thought you’d be more excited to see me!”

“Oh, fuck  _ you _ ,” Sylvain laughs.

“Darling, you  _ know _ that can be arranged.”

Sylvain would have responded with a witty retort if Ingrid didn’t clear her throat and make  _ the most  _ disgusted face. Even he had limits to his shamelessness.

He isn’t sure if “fuck buddy” applied to Claude seeing that they’ve never actually, well, fucked. What they did have was an arrangement that if they were at the same place and they both struck out, they would meet up and make out. It just never escalated past that.

Which isn’t to say that he didn’t find Claude attractive. He fully believes that no one in their right mind would ever describe Claude’s looks as anything but ridiculously handsome. It’s just difficult for him to ever fathom doing more than just kiss him when he is madly and disgustingly in love with Felix Hugo Fraldarius. And seeing that Claude’s interests also lay elsewhere — specifically, somewhere taller and blonder — he was beyond fine with that boundary. 

“What’s taking them so long?” Ingrid grumbles, pulling Sylvain right off his train of thought.

Then, like it was precisely timed, Felix’s bedroom door creaks open. The clicking of heels against tiles reverberates and Sylvain reflexively whistles to greet Dorothea.

“What the fuck,” he hears instead.

He turns around and his breath catches. He’s often prepared for nothing in life, and somehow even more unprepared for what he sees.

His eyes start at the four-inch heels and trails up as it stops at Felix’s knees. Beyond that is leather pants so tight that they leave little to the imagination. His mouth goes dry. He doesn’t even need to look to know that Claude is beside himself with amusement.

An elbow jabs him in the side. “Have something interesting to say, Sylvain?” Claude’s voice is so low that he almost shivers as he hears it.

“Fe,” he manages to say. “You’re wearing… you are… what — what’s happening?”

He swears that he sees Felix’s cheeks turn bright red for a split second. “What, Dorothea can wear them, but I can’t?”

Sylvain almost wheezes from how painfully Felix-like that answer is. Which really doesn’t help him put the thought of pushing Felix up against a wall and peeling the leather off with his teeth out of his mind. This outing, he decides, is a terrible miscalculation of how much of his composure he can possibly keep when Felix looks like  _ that _ . 

He also decides that there was only one explanation for the sudden change of wardrobe: Felix wants to torture him.

Dorothea steps out of Felix’s room and twirls around to show off the low back of her dress. She looks over and winks at Ingrid, who blushes at the attention. Suddenly, everyone in the room is preoccupied with watching Dorothea preen. Sylvain, on the other hand, almost runs over to hug her for giving him a moment to collect himself.

He hears someone say, “Shall we?” but he doesn’t register who it is. He walks towards the front door, his mind still hazy with want. 

“Fuck, Claude,” he whispers as he grabs him on their way out. “I’m not going to survive tonight.”

Claude sniggers as he puts an arm over Sylvain’s shoulders. “I know, baby, I know.”

* * *

_ Sylvain and Claude have been scrolling through the list of reality shows for about five minutes, unable to find one that looked interesting enough to start watching.  _

_ They hear a giggle coming from Dorothea’s bedroom followed by a loud shhhhh. _

_ Claude snorts. “Kind of ironic that the one who wanted to host movie night has decided to not watch a movie, huh?” _

_ “That just means that we have to make our own entertainment.” Sylvain takes a sip of his soda. “I mean, it’s not like we can just leave. I’m Ingrid’s ride and this is your apartment.” _

_ “Fair point. So…” Claude narrows his eyes. “What do you have in mind?” _

_ In all honesty, Sylvain was hoping that Claude had an idea or two because he didn’t have any. Also, the background noise of strangled moans hardly provides him with a conducive environment to think.  _

_ So, he says the first thing that comes to mind. “Wanna make out?” _

_ As soon as he says it, he regrets it. Claude’s eyes widen. He says nothing. Sylvain takes it as a rejection and looks away in mild embarrassment. He almost takes it back and laughs it off when Claude says, “Sure!” _

_ Sylvain blinks back his surprise. “Wait, what?” _

_ “Seriously. I’m game if you are.” _

_ He tries to say something but all that comes are false starts. His voice squeaks. “Like here? Right now?” _

_ “What, did you want to do it in my bedroom instead?” _

_ “No, here’s good!” he adds quickly. “Let’s not _ _ — _ _ let’s not make a big deal out of it.” _

_ Claude hums, seemingly satisfied with his answer. He takes the glass of soda from Sylvain’s hand and places it on the coffee table in front of them. Once his hands are free, he uses them to push Sylvain into the couch and he straddles his waist. _

_ “Last chance to say no,” Claude whispers. _

_ “It was my idea, you brat.” _

* * *

If you try picking up enough people, statistically at least one of them will say yes. Or at least, that’s how it’s usually been for Sylvain. For some reason, though, his tried-and-true method of hitting on every person within a 5-foot radius is wildly unsuccessful tonight. 

He sweeps his gaze around the room looking for his friends. He sees Ingrid, Dorothea, Annette and Mercedes sitting at the bar and talking between rounds of shots. He can’t find Felix, but he’s probably in the bathroom or sulking in some nondescript corner. 

He adds a drink to his tab, and he goes to a booth to nurse it. 

  
  


_ Bad luck tonight. Where are you? _

_ Balcony with Ashe discussing archery stuff. Can you wait? _

_ Sure, no problem. I’m in one of the booths near the stage. _

_ See you ;) _

  
  


He takes another sip of his drink. 

“Sylvain?”

He looks up and sees Dimitri with his famous scrunched up “I-am-concerned-about-you” look. He slides into the booth to make room for him. 

“Hey Dima. Bad traffic?”

“Traffic — oh, no, it was fine. Dedue and I were held back at work.” He smiles briefly. “Sylvain, I would like to talk to you about something, if that is alright with you.”

“Hmm?”

“Well… it’s about the way you… carry yourself.”

“You don’t like the way I stand?”

“Not at all! On the contrary, I find it dashing and poised! I’m talking about, well, your behaviour.”

“Ah…” He puts his drink down. From the corner of his eye, he sees “omw” from Claude flash across his phone screen. “Listen, it’s not really a good time for this.”

“If not now, then when? Every time you… strike out… you become so depressed. Sylvain, you need to stop attaching your self-worth to the number of people you can take to bed.”

“I hear ya.” 

And really, he does. It’s the same thing his therapist tells him whenever he actually feels like going to therapy. But he  _ really _ rather have this conversation at a time other than when his make-out partner is about to arrive.

“Why don’t you tell me why you do that? Why do you — ”

“Hey, Mitri! Mind if I borrow your friend for a minute?” Claude interrupts.

Dimitri knits his brow. “Why? We’re in the middle of an important conversation.”

Sylvain knows that look. It’s the look Claude makes when he wants something, and nothing can stand in his way of getting it.

“Alright,” he lilts before  _ climbing onto Dimitri’s lap and reaching out to comb his fingers through Sylvain’s hair _ . 

He had to give it to Claude — there was no way in hell he could make out with someone else in front of Felix, much less while sitting on his lap. 

“Wait — ” was the last thing that Sylvain heard from Dimitri.

He feels the devilish grin pulling Claude’s lips taut as they are pressing against his own. Then, a gentle tug of his hair makes him spill a soft moan into the kiss. That definitely made Claude feel a little smug because it doesn’t take long for his tongue to poke at Sylvain’s lips. Claude really knew what buttons to push.

Suddenly, he pulls back and turns to look at Dimitri, whose face and neck has turned a deep shade of red. His jaw is clenched so tightly that Sylvain almost feels the tension in his own jaw from looking at him.

“Oh?” Claude says as he slowly glances down, then back up at Dimitri’s face. 

“I’m s-s-sorry!” he blurts out. “It’s just… you’re on my lap, doing… that… and making those noises. I’m sorry!”

The corner of Claude’s lips twitches. “Are you feeling left out, Mitri?”

“Yes… I mean, no! I mean–”

Claude shifts around on his lap. Then, he straddles Dimitri and puts his hands in his hair. He tilts his chin up and kisses him. 

“Feel better — ” he says before he gets interrupted by Dimitri kissing him back.

Dimitri’s hands begin in the middle of Claude’s back. As the two deepen the kiss, his hands slide down to the small of his back and they push Claude closer to his chest. Claude moans.

“Do you,” Dimitri gasps. “Do you want… you can say no, of course… do you want to…”

“Fuck yes, let’s go.” 

Claude climbs off Dimitri’s lap, takes a moment to give Sylvain a fist bump, and hurries off with Dimitri to his car.

Sylvain leans back into the seat and chuckles. He raises his glass, then brings it down to his lips.

Anyone who was remotely paying attention knew that Dimitri had the biggest crush on Claude from the second he stepped into the friend group. But as much as Claude reciprocated, he didn’t want to put himself out there until he was a hundred and fifty percent sure that Dimitri was ready. It was just like him to be cautious about everything. 

_ At least one of them was getting laid _ , Sylvain thinks.

He places a few bills by the empty glass, and he gets up to leave the booth. He considers joining the girls at the bar, but he decides against it. It’s just one of those nights where he isn’t up to filling the hollowness with more alcohol. Instead, he walks over to the balcony that opened right out to a view of the park.

He leans on the railing and watches people go by; some with partners and some with dogs. He sighs heavily.

“Sylvain?”

He turns and sees Felix standing in the doorway.

“Hey Fe.” He smiles; he can’t help it. “Having a good time?”

“No?” Felix sounds offended that Sylvain even had to ask. “I got hit on by someone.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, he was real sleazy too. Come to think of it, he reminds me of you.”

“Wow, okay.”

Felix snorts.

“Wait… was that a joke?”

“Of course, it was. Who’d be interested in me?”

_ Who indeed _ , Sylvain nearly says aloud. He looks right at Felix’s face and he sees that there’s an unusual redness in his face. He doesn’t sound like it, but Felix is drunk. Sylvain is certain of it.

Still, there’s no harm in testing his theory.

“Fe, what do you really think of Dimitri?”

“Big. Big dork. Big heart. Big pain in the ass.”

Sylvain laughs. “And me? What do you think of me?”

Before Felix can answer, he is interrupted by heavy footsteps.

“Sylvain, Felix, we gotta go or we’re going to miss the last bus home,” Ingrid says.

Sylvain raises an eyebrow. “Aren’t Claude and Dimitri supposed to drive us home?”

Ingrid sighs. “They  _ were _ . But we can’t find either of them. Claude’s car is parked outside but he isn’t there. Dimitri is just missing, car and all.”

“ _ Ah. _ ”

  
  


The only thing worse than being sober on a night out is being insufficiently inebriated. While his friends are swaying along with the bus, at every turn, Sylvain watches over them with mild concern. Nothing bad has happened yet, but he isn’t sure how he, alone, is going to get them off the bus, walking a couple of blocks to their home, and into their beds.

The bus makes a sharp turn and Felix’s limp body flops right into Sylvain’s lap. The goddess, he decides, is testing him. Making sure to support his head and neck, Sylvain lifts Felix off his lap and props him up against the window.

“Sylvain…” Felix slurs.

“Yeah?”

“I… mmmmrrf…”

“Uhm, you too, bud.”

The bus takes another sharp turn, but this time, Felix’s head lands on his shoulder instead. He never thought that Felix could be heavy considering how lean his build is, but now he knows that his neck is going to ache tomorrow. This time, he doesn’t move him. He steadies his posture and pushes Felix’s hair out of his face. 

* * *

They agreed to meet at the café near Claude’s apartment almost an hour ago. Yet, here Sylvain is, still alone, his latte getting colder by the minute. Claude didn’t even have the decency to call and tell him that he’d be late! It’s not like Sylvain didn’t have places to be or people to do.

_ Well, he didn’t, but that’s besides the point. _

The couch dips as Claude drops himself into it. 

“Finally,” Sylvain says as he puts his book aside. 

Claude picks up Sylvain’s latte and takes a sip. “Sorry, babe. Was busy.”

Sylvain raises an eyebrow.

“Okay, fine, I was getting busy.”

Sylvain narrows his eyes. “You disgust me.”

Claude bursts into laughter. He takes another sip and leans back into the couch. He tries in vain to bite back the smile that dances on his lips. 

Sylvain sighs. “Go on, tell me.”

“I might be in love. I spent the night at his place — that’s why I’m  _ this _ late, by the way — and I woke up to him stroking my hair. He makes me feel warm in my chest…”

“I’m sure that’s not the only place he warmed up.”

Claude swats him with the back of his hand. “Shut up, I’m happy.”

“You better be, after abandoning me last weekend. Do you have  _ any _ idea how hard it is to drag four drunk girls and Felix home? I’m pretty sure I pulled something. For all the trouble you put me through, you better be  _ so fucking happy _ ,” he laughs. 

Claude sniggers and puts the latte down. He shifts around in his seat, then leans into Sylvain’s chest. “Couldn’t have done it without you.”

“You really could have.”

“Okay, okay. But what about you? Did anything happen between you and Felix?”

“Nah, you know how it is with Felix. It’s honestly so frustr–“ 

“Sylvain,” Claude interrupts. Sylvain looks down and sees Claude starring ahead. He turns and finds himself looking right at Felix.

“Fe,” his voice cracks. “How much did you hear?”

“Enough.” His hardened gaze worries Sylvain.

“I’m sorry, I really didn’t want to make this weird.” 

“Oh no, don’t mind me. Please, continue complaining about how awful I am.”

Before neither Sylvain nor Claude could get a word out, Felix storms out of the café. Sylvain stares at the door, shell-shocked. Claude purses his lips together as Sylvain sinks his head into his own hands. As if it isn’t enough that being around Felix makes him feel like his heart is about to burst out of his chest. Now, he’d also have to deal with Felix being actually mad at him.

“Well, that was awkward,” Claude mutters.

“You think?” Sylvain’s voice is only a couple of decibels from shouting. “Man, did you steal all my luck or something? I can’t catch a break.”

Claude reaches over to gently massage Sylvain’s shoulders. “Hey, hey, it’ll be fine. Just go home and talk to him. And maybe, uhm, tell him how you really feel.” 

“What, so he can get mad about something else?”

“ _ Sylvain. _ ”

“Fine, fine, you’re right. I’ll have the goddamned conversation.”

* * *

He did not have the goddamned conversation.

It wasn’t, mind you, for lack of trying. Sylvain thought that he could get comfortable enough to broach the subject if he started with some small talk. Except that Felix hated small talk and would twist his face into a grimace before swiftly removing himself from the situation. In all honesty, he should have expected just as much. However, the fact remains that he is still a pining mess who’s reaching the cusp of misery. 

“‘Vain, take this.”

Lost in thought, he doesn’t realise that Felix has gotten home until he is right in front of him and handing him a plastic bag with the word “SUBWAY” in bright orange and green. He blinks and cocks his head to the side.

“It’s yours. For lunch. Or whatever,” Felix says.

“What… what is it?”

“I was at Subway with Dimitri.”

“Uhm, and?”

“And I got you a meatball sub.” He knits his brows. “Sylvain, are you okay? You’re usually not this slow on the uptake.”

“No, I mean — ” He pauses to clear his throat. “What is this really for, Fe? And don’t you fucking tell me ‘to eat’.” 

Felix clicks his tongue in disapproval. “Why do you have to overthink it? Sometimes a sub is just a sub.”

Sylvain raises an eyebrow.

“FINE. It’s a peace offering. Dimitri gave me a lecture for giving you a hard time and… well, he’s right. So yeah, I’m sorry.” He turns away to hide the deep colour that is blooming in his cheeks.

His right hand pushes the loose strands of hair back.

He clenches his left fist.

There isn’t a doubt in Sylvain’s mind–Felix is hiding something from him. But what, he doesn’t know.

“Fe, is there something you want to tell me?”

Felix flinches. “No?”

Sylvain doesn’t want to push. Felix clams up when he does, and he wouldn’t get anything out of it. “But if there was, you’d tell me, right?”

“Of course,” Felix looks up and right through him. Sylvain almost asks if he can see his heart clenching in his chest.

“Uhm… thanks.” He hesitates then continues, “For the sub.”

“Yeah, no, uhm, of course.”

Felix lowers his eyes and shifts his gaze from side to side as if he were putting together through sight alone. Then, he looks up, his teeth grazing his lower lip. He turns his head slightly to look at the television, then back at Sylvain.

Sylvain regards him with curiosity as he unwraps the sandwich. “Say, Fe, want to watch a movie with me?”

“I don’t like movies.”

“Then a few episodes of a series.”

“I don’t like watching shows.”

“Felix, I’m asking you to spend two hours on a couch with me in relative silence. Would that really be  _ that _ painful for you?”

Felix turns away, then sits next to Sylvain.

  
  


Sylvain watches the credits roll as he hopes that Felix doesn’t want to discuss the ending that he was far too distracted to pay attention to. He looks down at his right side and sees Felix’s head resting against his bicep, his chest rising and falling gently. Sylvain isn’t sure at what point Felix fell asleep, but now he isn’t sure how he’s going to move without ruining the perfect portrait of serenity that leans on him for support. 

Almost like he could hear him thinking, Felix stirs, and his eyelids flutter open.

“Is the movie over?” he rasps. 

“Yeah.”

“Either it was a terribly tame horror movie, or it scared me so badly that I passed out,” Felix wheezes. “Did you finish it or did you get bored and get off Netflix?”

“I finished it, but I kind of got distracted at the end.”

“Didn’t scare you, did it?” Felix smiles. Not widely, but it’s a smile, nonetheless. It takes all the self-control in Sylvain not to gasp at the sight. 

_ Has Felix always had that tiny mole at the edge of his hairline? Has he always looked this blindingly beautiful? _

He feels like he should smile back, but instead his face falls. His bottom lip tremors as he whispers, “Only a little.”

* * *

So maybe Sylvain is a little drunk.

It started with Sylvain complaining to Hilda about his debilitating inability to tell his best friend that he’s in love with him. Eventually, Hilda started groaning from how bored she was of listening to his problems.

_ “What you need, Sylvain, is some alcohol.” _

And that is what led to him stumbling home from the bar. 

He fumbles with his keys and manages to drop them twice as he tries to open the door. Finally, he pushes it open and ends up falling over. 

“You’re back!” Ingrid exclaims as she looks up from the television. “Did you forget about movie night?”

It takes him a good minute to register that all his housemates, Claude, Dorothea, Dimitri and Dedue were in the living room. And they were all staring at his drunk self. 

“I called… thought you might have forgotten,” Ashe says softly. “But you didn’t answer.”

Sylvain pats down his pockets. His phone isn’t there. He must have left it at the bar or dropped it on the bus. Annette rushes over to rifle through his work bag. She gives him an apologetic look as she shakes her head.

“Fuck.”

“Well, no issue, I can just lock your phone remotely and we’ll get you a new one tomorrow,” Ingrid offers.

“No, it’s not about the fucking phone. I just… FUCK!” He almost trips over his own feet as he tries to stand up. “It’s about me fucking up again and again and again and again…”

Now Dedue is rushing to his side. “Hey, hey, we can talk about this when you’re sober. Why don’t you go to your room and—”

“See, you’re all just so good. You have everything figured out. Me? I’m working a job that I hate. I bring down people that I love. I’m just… not worth anyone’s time.” He feels himself decompress as he says these words, but he can’t bring himself to turn and watch Felix’s reaction.

“Let me,” Claude says as he taps on Dedue’s shoulder. Dedue moves to the side so that Claude can grab Sylvain’s arm and lead him back to his room. “Come on, babe, we’re going to get you some rest.”

Sylvain feels his body getting heavier, but he follows Claude’s lead anyway. 

Claude pushes him onto his own bed. “How many drinks did you have?”

Sylvain massages the space between his eyes. “Four? Maybe six? I kind of lost count after a while.”

“Yeesh. Do you need to talk about it?”

As soon as he understands what Claude is asking, he throws his head back and begins to laugh. Hysterically. 

“What’s so funny?” Claude asks, his voice sounding both confused and concerned.

“What’s funny, baby, is that you genuinely think that talking is going to do anything! And you know what, maybe it has for some people, but not for me. Not for me.” His eyes prickle with tears that he isn’t sure are from laughing or frustration. “I’m not like other people, Claude. I fuck everything up.”

“Sylvain, that’s not true.”

“Isn’t it? In the time since I’ve graduated from college, what have I done that’s noteworthy?”

Claude’s mouth gapes, but he presses it closed without saying anything. He turns towards the door of Sylvain’s bedroom.

“See? I’ve done nothing.”

“Sylvain, wait.”

“I’ve got nothing—”

“Sylvain—”

“I can’t even tell Felix that I’m madly in love with him.”

Claude doesn’t say anything. Sylvain turns to look in the direction that he’s facing and realises why. Felix is standing at his doorway, unblinking and trembling. 

“H-Hi-Hilda called. She said she found y-y-y-your phone in her purse. That’s… that’s all.” It’s only when he hears it that Sylvain realises that it’s the first time that he’s heard Felix stutter.

“Thanks… hahahaha fuck… fuck me.”

“Sylvain—” Felix begins.

“Now I’ve fucked up my friendship with you. Awesome. Brilliant. I’ll just go to bed and wish for death now.”

Felix is walking towards him. He cannot imagine why. Claude takes this as his cue to leave and moves faster than Sylvain has ever seen him move before. 

“I’m sorry. If you want to pretend that you didn’t hear that, that’s fine. If you want to me to move out—”

“Sylvain!” Felix yells. “I know you’re drunk, but do you ever just shut up?”

Before Sylvain can respond to that, he finds himself pushed back into the mattress. He barely catches his breath before having it taken away by Felix pressing their lips together.

His hands instinctually fall to Felix’s waist as he pulls him in closer and closer. Felix grunts, then pushes them apart.

“Wha—”

“You don’t know how much I’ve wanted this,” Felix sighs. “But you’re going to go to bed, and we can do this again when you’re sober.”

Felix lifts himself off Sylvain’s lap. Before he can get off the bed, Sylvain grabs his wrist. If asked another time, he would swear that the moonlight was reflecting in Felix’s hair, despite it being the night of a new moon and the light being from street lamps outside his window. Felix just has a way of making him feel a lot better about reality.

His vision blurs as he tears up.

“Felix, I swear to God, if I wake up tomorrow and find out that this was just some weird dream, I honestly don’t know what I’ll do with myself.”

“Shouldn’t have gotten drunk then.”

“Felix!”

“Don’t think too hard about it, Vain. Go to sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Will you stay with me?”

Felix smiles and kisses his forehead. He reaches behind his head, unties his hair and places the band on the nightstand. Then he curls up next to Sylvain.

“I love you, Fe.”

“I… mmmmrrf…”

Sylvain laughs. His hands find Felix’s and he interlocks their fingers together. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading to the end of the chapter! This fic was months in the work but my attention kept being occupied by other things like school aofhioehfoe. I hope you liked it! It's my first FE3H fic so please be gentle, haha.
> 
> As usual, you've very welcome to yell at me on twitter [@5tellarparallax](https://twitter.com/5tellarparallax).


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